


An Intercourse of Three Parts

by dwarrowdams



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowdams/pseuds/dwarrowdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilan and Zevran run into a beautiful woman in the Pearl who knows how to handle a blade—and, fortunately for them, is more than willing to share her skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Intercourse of Three Parts

**Author's Note:**

> I've been itching to write Gilan/Zevran/Isabela for ages and figured I might as well start at the beginning, since that's not usually a thing I do.
> 
> Also, you should thank your lucky stars that I didn't title this "It's Not Gay If It's In A Three-Way." (I decided to go with a slightly more upscale play on the multiple meanings of the word "intercourse" coupled with a reference to a favorite novel of mine.)
> 
> Enjoy and as always, I'd be delighted to hear what you think!

The group’s second trip to the Pearl was much like the first one.  Alistair and Wynne looked uncomfortable, Zevran seemed oddly nostalgic, Tirzah looked bored, and Gilan wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all.

 

He’d heard plenty of talk about whorehouses—he’d even heard a few people mention the Pearl, in fact—but had never been to one himself until now.  It was an intriguing place that reeked of sensuality; if he’d had the luxury of more time, Gilan would have gladly observed the comings and goings of the Pearl for a few hours.

 

He cast his gaze around the main room, eyes drifting over the workers and the patrons—some smooth and discreet, some overeager and jittery—move through the room.  However, in the midst of all the action and intrigue, one thing in particular caught Gilan’s eye.  Two men were dueling a woman—and losing, by the looks of it.  Although the men were adequate, they could neither match nor anticipate the woman’s quick movements.

 

“Damn,” Gilan murmured appreciatively as he watched her daggers flash, quickly disarming the men with whom she was dueling.

 

Tirzah sighed heavily.  “We’ve been here less than two minutes and already you can’t control your—”

 

“I was talking about her fighting style, Tirzah,” Gilan said.  “Although she’s pretty easy on the eyes too.”

 

“See, I wasn’t completely wrong.”

 

“You just assume that I’m a beacon of sin, don’t you?” Gilan asked.

 

“My tent’s right next to yours,” Tirzah said.  “I’m not assuming anything.”

 

“We have an audience, it seems,” Zevran chimed in, taking a step towards Gilan so that his fingers brushed against the human’s.

 

Tirzah groaned, covering her face in exasperation.  “I knew I should’ve left at least one of you back at camp,” she said.

 

“It is too late for that, it seems,” Zevran said, smirking.  “You are stuck with us both.”

 

“Not for much longer, if I’m lucky,” Tirzah muttered.  “If we leave now, we can be back in the Market District before the next hour begins.”

 

“Hang on a sec,” Gilan said, looking back at the dark-haired woman across the room.  “I’m going to go talk to that woman.  Maybe she can teach me a thing or two.”

 

“I will come with you,” Zevran said, a smile playing across his face.  “I think that she and I have met before.”

 

“You two can go ahead,” Tirzah said as she took a step towards the table that Alistair and Wynne currently occupied.  “We’ll just wait back here.”

 

“All right,” Gilan said.  “Try not to have too much fun.”

 

Tirzah rolled her eyes at him.  “Go,” she said, waving him away.

 

“Might as well give her a break from us,” Gilan said to Zevran.  “Come on.”

 

The two of them crossed the room, weaving carefully between furniture, workers, and patrons as they approached the dark-haired woman.

 

“You said you know her,” Gilan murmured, leaning down to speak into Zevran’s ear as they nudged past a couple locked in a particularly passionate embrace.  “Who is she?”  


Zevran opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the woman turned her attention towards them.

 

“And look who we have here,” she said, eyes fixed on Zevran, her eyebrows arched slightly.  “Come to apologize for leaving me bereft of my lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?”

 

Zevran grinned shamelessly at her.  “You know it was just business, Isabela,” he said.  “Business that turned out well for you, I see—you inherited the ship, I take it?”

 

The woman—Isabela, presumably—frowned slightly and made a small noise of distaste.  “I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard,” she admitted.  “Besides, the Siren treats me far better than she ever did him.”

 

Gilan looked at the two of them, trying unsuccessfully to determine the relationship between them.  “Seems like some introductions are in order,” he said.

 

“I suppose they are,” Zevran said, turning towards Gilan.  “This is Isabela, queen of the eastern seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn.”

 

Gilan nodded in understanding, although he was still a bit curious as to how Isabela’s apparently deceased husband fit into the picture.

 

“And Isabela, my dear,” Zevran continued, “you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am traveling with a Grey Warden.”

 

Isabela turned towards Gilan, her gaze drifting over him for just a moment too long.  “A Grey Warden?” she said.  “Charmed.”

 

“Likewise,” Gilan said, taking her hand and kissing it—an over-exuberant gesture, perhaps, but Isabela seemed to appreciate it.

 

“And manners too,” she said, her full lips turning up into a smirk.  “I like this one, Zev.”

 

“I do have excellent taste,” Zevran said.

 

Isabela sniffed in amusement, her gaze turning towards Gilan.  “And just how did you get stuck with this one?”

 

“Long story short, he tried to kill me, he failed and asked if I’d let him live if he stuck around, I agreed and somehow managed to get attached,” Gilan said.

 

“You make it sound so easy,” Zevran said, pouting.  “I did put some effort into trying to kill you, you know.  I had an ambush waiting.”

 

Isabela’s eyebrows arched, drawing attention to her surprisingly warm brown eyes.  “He set a trap and you still bested him?” she said.  “You certainly know how to handle a blade.”

 

Gilan laughed.  “Looks like I’m not the only one,” he said.  “Those men I saw fighting you just a minute ago didn’t have a chance.”

 

Isabela smiled at the compliment.  “I assume you saw that little drama?” she asked.  “None of these poor brutes have ever proven a match for me.  They are too clumsy and predictable.”

 

Gilan nodded—he’d noticed how slow and uncoordinated the men’s movements had seemed when compared with Isabela’s impressively fast daggerwork.

 

“I fight with quickness and wit rather than with brute force and strength,” she continued.  “I call myself a duelist because I honed my skills in duels with warriors I encountered over the years.”

 

“You ‘re a hell of a fighter,” Gilan said.  “Do you think you could teach me?”

 

Isabela laughed.  “An unusual request coming from a fearsome slayer of darkspawn,” she said, her eyebrows arching slightly in amusement.  “I am flattered that you wish to learn from me, sweet thing.”

 

Gilan bit the inside of his lip, hoping that the lighting in the Pearl was dim enough to hide the flush creeping into his cheeks.  Even after the past few months of Zevran’s ongoing flirtation, Gilan still wasn’t quite accustomed to attractive people flirting with him so openly.

 

Isabela continued, clearly oblivious to Gilan’s reaction.  “It will take you years of practice to achieve true mastery of the style, but I can teach you the basics,” she said.  “I do, however, wish to get to know my potential student better, so we shall call for a drink and you will honor me with a game.”

 

Gilan frowned slightly.  He’d never quite gotten the hang of cards.  He’d played a few different games back in Highever and could occasionally win, but he wasn’t confident in his ability to beat an experienced player like Isabela.

 

“Are there no other ways for us to get to know each other?” he asked.

 

Isabela’s lips turned upwards in a smirk.  “Do you have…something else in mind?” she asked, her golden eyes smoldering as they traced slowly over his body.

 

Gilan opened his mouth, ready to tell her that she’d misunderstood him, but he stopped himself before he could speak.  Perhaps he should follow through with this.  He glanced over at Zevran, trying to gauge his reaction to this turn of events.  As intrigued as he was by Isabela, Gilan didn’t want to make Zevran feel unwanted.

 

Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be an issue.  Zevran met his gaze and nodded once, his lips upturned slightly.

 

Gilan took a deep breath.  “Actually,” he began, “I was thinking that we could go somewhere a bit more private so that I could…show you.”

 

From the corner of his eye, Gilan saw Tirzah cover her face with her hands, shaking her head slightly.  He couldn’t blame her—in fact, he was fighting the urge to do the same.  Isabela, however, seemed enticed by his awkwardly phrased proposition.  “Ooohh, and now you’ve piqued my interest,” she purred.  “It would surely be rude of me to decline such a…delicious offer.”

 

He couldn’t believe she’d actually been interested—particularly after the last thing he’d said—but he certainly wasn’t about to complain.  Until recently, he’d had few opportunities for this sort of casual encounter and although the prospect made him a bit nervous—Isabela was incredibly gorgeous, after all—it intrigued him.

 

He turned towards Zevran, but Isabela spoke before he could.  “And what about you, Zev?” she asked.  “Shall we, for old time’s sake?”

 

“Oh Isabela, you and your ridiculous appetites,” Zevran teased.  “Perhaps we should leave it up to our friend here?”

 

Gilan felt his heart skip a beat.  He’d never had sex with more than one person at a time and although the prospect made him slightly nervous, he was eager to find out what it was like.  Besides, if Isabela was anywhere near as skilled as Zevran, it would be mind-blowingly incredible.

 

“Hey,” he said, “the more the merrier.”

 

Isabela smiled.  “Ah, this brings back memories,” she said.  “Come—my ship is down by the docks and I am sure that you’ll find my cabins quite…comfortable.”

 

Gilan took a deep breath, trying to conceal his slight nervousness as he followed Zevran and Isabela out of the Pearl.

 

“I can’t believe she agreed to that,” Gilan murmured to Zevran as he fell into step beside the elf.

 

Zevran chuckled.  “Oh, Isabela is no stranger to this sort of thing,” he said.  “Besides, she would have been a fool to turn you down.”

 

“Especially since you’re with me.”

 

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

 

Gilan took Zevran’s hand, squeezing it appreciatively.  “I’m glad you’re with me,” he said.  “If we’re being totally honest, I’m a little nervous about this.”

 

“There is no need to worry, my dear,” Zevran said.  “Trust me—you are in good hands.”

 

Gilan smiled.  “Oh, I know that,” he said.  “I’m just hoping that I can keep up.”

 

“With your Warden stamina, that should not be a problem.”

 

“Hmm,” Gilan mused as they walked out of the Pearl and into the street.  “Then it looks like we’re in for an exciting afternoon.”


End file.
